2016 August Edition of the Good Life Magazine

Here's a link to an article I wrote about local farmers for the August edition of the Good Life Magazine: Farmers Market vendors bring something fresh to local tables
There are even some nice photos.
Eventually, I will get caught back up on updating the blog with all the stuff I wrote over the summer....this is at least a start.

2016 May Edition of the Good Life Magazine: A Sail in the San Juans

**This article was written for the Good Life Magaine, May 2016 edition**

I started to fall in love with sailboats during middle school. In art class, I would spend hours painting watercolors of sloops, schooners and colonial trading vessels. I would sketch small figures in striped shirts manning the decks and would imagine that it was me. My art teacher told me that, in dream psychology, boats represent a desire to escape and be free. That revelation couldn’t have felt any closer to my own personal 13 year-old truth.  This was also about the time when my family acquired a small, single-sailed Sunfish. During the hot summer weekends, my dad would load the small craft into the back of the truck and would take us sailing on Crystal Lake. On windier days, we would race the little boat as fast as possible to see how far she would lean before catching water in her sails; eventually swamping or flipping. Over time, our family dynamics evolved. Weekends of taking the little sailboat out on the water made way for pre-college employment and other teenage distractions. The Sunfish was eventually sold and my sailing days came to an end. However, in the years that followed, I found myself gravitating toward the water now and again, if only to admire the beautiful sailboats that were moored along every coast that I have ever visited. I kept having this urge to jump aboard the deck, throw the lines loose and sail away on some epic deep sea adventure….but it never happened; until recently.

Robin Kodner has been my best friend since college. She is a take-charge kind of woman and her adventurous spirit never ceases to amaze me. During grad school on the East Coast, Robin found herself leading multi-week sailing courses for Outward Bound during her summer vacations. After graduation, she crewed for a private family and spent time sailing around the Canary Islands and various other exotic locations. For years, we have joked about running away and becoming pirates; two women on the high seas with wind in our sails and salt in our hair. So it came as no surprise, when she found herself permanently residing in Bellingham that she would end up as a partner in a 3-way boat share of a 38 foot sloop named ‘Arpege’.  

Peg is a beauty. Built in the 70’s, her interior is composed of impeccable mahogany with sleeping space for 5 people, a small kitchen and an even smaller ‘head’ (bathroom). Her lines are classic and graceful and her previous owners showed obvious care for her (including all new upholstery and a full engine rebuild). Although a financial stretch for a single, professional woman, Robin couldn’t refuse her and drained a good portion of her savings to both purchase the boat and pay for moorage. During the first months of ownership, Robin defaulted to her more experienced boat partners and never took Peg out in Bellingham Bay or the San Juans without a few additional crew members to help out with the lines and the rigging. But when mid-summer arrived, I could tell that Robin was itching to become the captain of her own vessel.  I talked her into taking me out on an overnight sail as her only crew member. Just the two of us, like we had always imagined.

My summer work schedule is hectic. I am often limited to trips that can happen within 36 hours or less from door-to-door. I knew that taking on an overnight sailing trip in this amount of time was pushing the limits of what was logistically possible coming from Leavenworth. But the idea of taking Peg into the San Juans with my best friend was too good to pass up. I was in my car by 10 AM on a Monday morning in July. By about 1 PM I was at Robin’s house. By 2:30 PM we were loading up the boat and throwing off the lines. The weather was sunny and bright with a variable wind of 5 to 10 knots. The water was flat and glassy; a perfect afternoon for sailing.

We tacked our way across Bellingham Bay and crossed Lummi Channel with a favorable wind. Peg glided through the water at a reasonable pace and we only needed to tack one time while shooting through the narrow channel between Lummi and Eliza islands. We set ourselves on course for Vendovi Island, a remote private island that is now held in a preservation trust. We reached Vendovi without incident and went on a quick hike around some of the most amazing, pristine forest I have ever visited. All vistas on Vendovi looked out over the water and the multitude of small islands that dot the Washington coast. Vendovi closes to the public at sunset with no overnight moorage available, so we hopped aboard Peg and motored our way back over to Lummi Island where we spent the night anchored in Inati Bay. We entered Inati just as the sun was sinking into the water; the heavens ablaze in oranges, reds and purples. The night entered the sky clear and calm, with the stars in full array across the horizon. I fell asleep to the gentle swing of the boat on its bow line as Peg swayed back and forth with the surging tide.

In the morning, we awoke to an unforeseen bout of weather. Although Inati Bay was calm, we could see that the Lummi Channel was surging with five to six foot swells and a wind blowing a steady 20 knots in the wrong direction. Feeling slightly out of my league as first mate, we motored across the channel and only raised the sails after passing into calmer waters, coasting gently back to Bellingham.

True to plan, I was back in Leavenworth by Tuesday afternoon having completed my first overnight sail with one of my favorite people. This summer we plan on sailing together out to the Sucia Islands. It’s our practice trip for when we really do run away and become pirates. 

2016 February Edition of the Good Life Magazine: Van Camping on Maui

**The printed story with photos can be found at The Good Life Magazine, February 2016 issue. The unedited text is below...

Every fall for the past 4 years, my husband Willy and I have embarked on a multi-week family road trip with our two kiddos. It is a chance for us to re-connect as a family through camping and adventuring. This year, instead of remaining in the Continental United States, we decided to branch out and do our first ‘exotic’ road trip. Since our kids are now 8 and 6, I wanted to start exploring parts of the world with them that are highly inconvenient/less enjoyable when traveling with toddlers. For our first airplane-necessary road trip, we decided to explore the Island of Maui in a 1989 pop-up Volkswagen Westfalia camper van. I’ll preface my story by saying that the trip I am about to describe is not for everyone. If a Hawai’ian vacation to you means poolside drinks and over-priced luaus then please don’t attempt our style of vacation. However, if you are comfortable with adventure and the unknown, then this may be the next trip for you.

I first came across the ad for Aloha Campers when I was searching for tent camping options on Maui. We knew we wanted to visit the island but didn’t want to be stuck in one location for the entire trip.  We also weren’t interested in visiting Maui for the resort experience. A vacation for us means the opportunity to see new plants, animals, birds and aquatic life. It also means hiking, sleeping under the stars and (at times) putting ourselves as far away from civilization as possible. We knew that logistically, it was going to be difficult to bring all of our camping gear with us on an airplane. Renting the Westfalia seemed to be the best solution to our problem…..enough sleeping space for 2 adults and 2 kids, a small fully stocked kitchen and the ultimate freedom to explore. This was going to be a great trip!

We landed in Kahului, Maui at 2 PM in the afternoon and caught our shuttle to Kihei where we first became acquainted with our home away from home for the next 6 nights; a 1989 Steel Blue Volkswagen Westfalia pop-up camper van. Brandon, her owner, briefly acquainted us with her quirks and showed us the location of several essential features including the jumper cables and an extra screwdriver….just in case…. We threw our packs in the back and prepared for departure. As I was about to turn the key, one of the mechanics knocked on the passenger side window. Willy rolled it down and the guy threw us a big smile…. ‘Her name’s Stella!’ he shouted through the window. We promised to take care of her and headed out in search of a grocery store and a place to spend the night. We made a quick stop to a local pawn shop and purchased a set of snorkel gear for $8 and a fishing rod and reel for $25. We were set!

Camping on Maui was an interesting experience. Lately, the islands have been getting a reputation for being un-friendly to tourists. Although this may be true if you are touring around in an ȕber fast cherry-red mustang convertible or a shiny new Jeep Wrangler, this isn’t the case when cruising the island in an old Volkswagen bus that tops out at 50 mph. People love these vans. Even though we knew we were running the risk of stepping on the toes of locals during our camping trip, we found that it was easy to make friends when traveling along in Stella. People would wave, throw us solid shakkas and made a point to come over and say hi and have a look inside the van. We discovered that Westfalias are a hot commodity on the islands these days. Very few of them still remain in private hands. They are a throwback to a time when surfing and good vibes still ruled the island; before the mega-resort complexes became king. We had no trouble backing the van in to some prime on-water camping. Often, we were peacefully nestled between old-school surfers who had been living on the beach for years.

Truly, this trip was amazing from Day 1. We hit up nearly every public beach on the island; snorkeling 2 or 3 times a day in warm, pristine azure waters. We spotted more sea turtles than we could count, saw octopus and eels and more fish than an aquarium can hold. The only beaches with trash in the sand were those adjacent to the mega resort complexes. Those beaches also held the least diversity of sea life and the cloudiest waters. The county beaches set aside for locals were well maintained and uncrowded. They often had showers, bath houses and sometimes a playground.

Because of the mobility the van afforded us, we were able to drive the infamous road to Hana and could spend several nights exploring the more remote areas of Maui. We hiked through bamboo forests, slogged up muddy trails that wound beneath wild papayas and banyans to hidden waterfalls, explored freshwater caches within ancient lava tubes and spotted elusive native birds in their jungle homes. Willy fished the rugged inlets along the North Shore and the kids made sand castles from dawn until dusk with intermittent pauses for boogie-boarding and snorkeling.  We dined on fresh pineapple and star fruit, tiny sweet bananas, creamy avocados and sugar cane.

When it was time to return Stella, we were all overcome with sadness. We had become attached to our nomadic life in the van. Living on the beaches of Maui for that brief period of time was certainly one of the best adventures of my life. I am overcome with happiness that we could all enjoy the trip together as a family. I am already planning our next vacation. Who knows what possibilities the future holds? But I wouldn’t hesitate to repeat our Maui road trip. Indeed, I would return to van life in a heart-beat…..and my family would too.

Dirtbags; a guide

*An edited version of this essay will be appearing in The Good Life Magazine in May of 2015

Becoming a well-seasoned dirtbag is a skill acquired over years of intentional fun-seeking away from the boundaries of the urban corridor. Although it is best to start at a young age so that the intricacies of living on the road become second nature, anyone has the potential of aspiring to future dirtbag status (just look at Fred Becky).

**A Quick Word of Advice: Avoid calling yourself a dirtbag  in public until you are at least 17 years of age. Avoid calling your parents dirtbags too....especially  in front of figures of authority....like your teachers....even if they are. This is a term of endearment that some people don't understand.**

The following is an easy step-by-step guide to the conversion of a sane, high IQ individual on a promising career path into a low-wage earning, high velocity, free spirited, dirtbag. Results will vary among individuals.

Step 1-Develop a love for a sport or activity where destination travel is a key component. The love of travel is not a prerequisite but it does aid the transition process from responsible student/adult into carefree adventure seeker. Suggested activities and/or careers that will gain you dirtbag experience points include snowboarding/back country skier, climber/mountain guide, mountain/dirt/adventure biker, surfer, kayaker/rafter, long distance hiker/runner, fisherman, anything involving a sail, park service employee,outdoor ed. major, nature photographer/writer, geologist, biologist, and journeyman anything.

Step 2- Be (and remain) idealistic.Idealism makes up for the lack of working capital (i.e. cash) that upholds the self esteem of the responsible folks. When cash fails, ideals blossom. Have ideals about politics, religion, the environment, society. Have ideals about love and family, war and peace, and good literature.

Step 3-Be comfortable around dirt. This means, be comfortable around your dirt, other peoples dirt, being dirty and plain old dirt. Be able to lie in the dirt, without a blanket. Be able to brush the dirt off of an item and think of this as 'cleaning'.

Step 4-Cook out of a can or be able to craft gourmet meals using free and/or scavenged ingredients. This may mean opening a can and eating the contents with your fingers or a modified utensil (crackers) with or without heating up the contents of the can before consumption. Some items to consider ingesting include tuna fish, ramen noodles, ketchup soup, dried fruit, blocks of cheese,chocolate chip cookies, coffee with cocoa packets and salami sticks. When in doubt, be able to identify the local bakery or  brewery to fill in where your personal talents fall short. Add +5 to your experience points when your Jet Boil meal incorporates vegetables and possibly, chopping.

Step 5- Be able to Tetris your under-sized, under powered Toyota Camry with all equipment necessary for a multi-week excursion with or without pets/co-pilot. This usually requires the purchase of multiple Rubbermaid roughneck totes that have been black sharpied with Duct Tape labels such as: Clothes, Camping, Food, Cooking, Gear and Emergency. Or skip the bins and the Tetris and aim for the 'scatter and dig' approach, maximizing the entire storage capacity of your trunk but requiring excess parking lot space for actually finding that last red cam. Add to your life's goals: purchase all-wheel drive Subaru (or possibly Toyota Tacoma with modified bed turned sleeping compartment/gear storage). If dirtbag is only a persona you don on weekends due to job constraints where personal appearance and mode of transportation invite judgement from co-workers and neighbors,  consider the Honda Element as a more suitable urban substitute.

Step 6-Practice improvisation and creativity. As a dirtbag you will be called upon to improvise such necessary items as tent poles, shelters, splints or slings, can openers, and any number of items that may be missing, broken, lost or forgotten. It is your ability to think creatively that will keep you cozy, dry and safe in nearly any conditions presented.

Step 7- Don't forget some reads, a journal and a good camera. Travel with a compendium of obscure publications and dog-eared maps. Old guidebooks, copies of the Alpinist, Frequency or Taproot are always welcome companions when wifi service becomes non-existent. Develop an eye for natural beauty or that perfect descent and capture it on film. Draw, paint and create on your rest days. Art always scores chicks.

Step 8-Love yourself. You became a dirtbag because of your passion for the interesting and beautiful places in this world. Be comfortable being you, even when those around you are not comfortable with you being you. Learn to convey your passion to others through words, photos and essays. You may be surprised how many other people secretly long to be dirtbags too.

Step 9-Raise future dirtbags. Fill your kids' heads with propaganda like 'Camping is Fun!' or 'Jump around and you'll warm up.' Make rhetorical statements like 'Well, we could go out to eat but wouldn't you rather stay here and have a fire?' Bribe them with marshmallows and their very own headlamps. Let them choose the hike out of the book. Stack the family tree; introduce your dirtbag friends to your kids as 'aunt' and 'uncle'. Be prepared for these future dirtbags to grow up to become tax attorneys, investment bankers or fashion editors instead.

And, if dirtbagging it just isn't for you anymore, there are alternatives.There's always the home in the sprawl, the lawn to mow, 15 lbs of potato chips and beer hoping to join your midsection and a full  televised sports schedule waiting to engulf you. If you have found yourself inadvertently stalled out on this side-adventure, remember that it is never too late to get back out there. The dirtbag life is always calling and the rest of us will still be here, waiting for you.